


Snippets of Life

by Demetria_0620



Series: Twistedly Messed Up [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5 + 1, Age Difference, Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Evil, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Violence, Drunk-marriage, Evil!Barry, Family, Fluff and Humor, I Don't Even Know, I Probably Should Regret This, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mention of experimental drugs, Mpreg, Multiple Universes, Public Sex, Self-cest, Should I Regret This?, Shower Sex, Why Did I Write This?, doppelgangers, slightly unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demetria_0620/pseuds/Demetria_0620
Summary: Barry's life with Savitar throughout the fifteen years they were together.orFive snippets of Barry's life with Savitar and one with Len(Sort of the prequel to the previous two installments of  my Twistedly Messed Up series.)





	1. Scars and Itches

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposedly be 5+1 kind of fanfic...
> 
> Then it spiraled out of control and write itself. I don't even know how this happens.
> 
> You'd probably wanted to at least read the first installment to know what the heck is going on in here and not get too confused.
> 
> P/s: Barry's scars totally works like Harry Potter's scars though. They detected danger.

It itched.

Barry sat at the edge of the bed, his shirt on his lap as he tried to reach for any scar on his back.

It really itched.

Though, he knew that it was nothing related to his physiology. It wasn’t anything physical. They were all old scars, already healed on their own long before he regained his power. 

But it still itched.

He tried to reach for the scar on his spine, wincing when the tip of his fingers touched the ridges of embossed healed skin. It was long and jagged, and it must have been so ugly to the eye because even Barry felt disgusted as he ran the tip of his fingers over the scar.

Why did they itch so much?

He needed a relief. Wanted to scratch the scars until they bled all over again—until they no longer itched.

But he couldn’t.


	2. 34 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Barry's 34th birthday, Savitar gave him a wonderful public sex.

“You really do enjoy showing off….”

Barry chuckled, his lips dragged over the warm skin and pressed to the erratic jugular before he parted his lips, suckling lightly on the soft skin. Hands clawed on his sweater as the firm ass ground onto his lap, slim hips rolling slowly and created all too delicious friction over their layers of clothes. Barry knew there a high percentage that they had an audience despite the little privacy their curtained booth provided and Frost would probably nag him about this but he practically owned this lair. He could mess with his pretty _partner_ everywhere that he wished to, even if it’s right in the middle of everyone’s line of sight.

Plus, it was his birthday. And soon it would be their first anniversary ruling the cities. He was thirty-four years old man with insatiable speedster’s libido. He should be given the privilege to do whatever he wanted tonight, even if it meant fucking his partner right here.

He had zero fucks to give to morals and public decency.

“Barry, you better kiss me right now or I swear I’m going to castrate you and put your dick in a blender with the highest setting…”

Barry snorted at the annoyed hiss, but gave in regardless as he tilted his face up to catch Savitar’s lips in a slow kiss. He could feel the gaze of his rogues on him through the translucent curtains that hid them from direct view, felt the burning want they directed to the man on his lap and he couldn’t resist curling his lips to a smug smirk as he pushed his hands up Savitar’s shirt, pushing just slightly to show the smooth skin with the tantalizing swirl of burn scar, before sliding lower to squeeze the firm ass.

Savitar gasped and buried his face to Barry’s shoulder, hands clawing on the wool of Barry’s sweater while his hips ground lower to rub against Barry’s own growing erection.

“Barry, stop teasing!”

“Now, now…Do you want me to strip you naked and fuck you right here?”

Savitar glared at him.

Although, instead of looking intimidating as he intended, Savitar looked like an angry spoiled kitten instead, no thanks to the pink flush colouring the younger speedster’s cheeks, the way his hair fluffed out like some fluffy fur, the way those sweet soft lips jutted out in a pout and the way those mismatched eyes seemed to glaze over in needs. Savitar curled his lips, cheeks flushed a brighter pink as the mismatched eyes casted a quick look around before the younger speedster pushed Barry to rest more comfortably against the plush seat of their booth. The younger speedster slid his jacket off, letting it pool round his waist before he hurried to fumble with Barry’s belt.

Barry grinned.

Oh, this was far better than what he expected.

He shifted a bit, creating the illusion that they were simply making out and getting a bit handsy with one another when he felt Savitar’s trembling hands brought his own to press up against the tight hole. Nice. They weren’t planning for this so they didn’t have any lube to slick things up. Barry pulled Savitar closer, the thrill of public sex made him slightly light-headed as he slicked his fingers up with their combined pre-cum. Savitar wrapped his arms round Barry’s neck, burying his face to the crook of Barry’s clavicle, his teeth biting down on the wool of Barry’s sweater to muffle his voice when Barry slid a finger inside him.

It was going to hurt, being almost dry and thoroughly unprepared, but Barry knew that his partner could take it.

Hence, he lazily prepped the tight hole, stretching and scissoring at a leisure pace until Savitar started biting on his shoulder. He snaked his arms around the slim waist, resting his back leisurely against the soft cushion of the seat and stared at his partner, a silent challenge. Savitar swore, the filthy mouth muttered strings of obscene words before he shifted closer and used one hand to guide Barry inside him while his other hand clutched on Barry’s bicep, his whine of pain was muffled against Barry’s chest. Barry gave Savitar a few minutes to adjust before he started moving, sliding in and out of the tight resisting heat, fucking his partner at such casual leisure pace so that they didn’t attract too much attention.

Nahhh. He had zero fucks about getting attention.

He just wanted to torment Savitar. 

“God, Barry…,” Savitar whimpered, leaving a damp spot on Barry’s shoulder due to the way he was biting on the fabric, his arms tightened round Barry’s neck as he choked and gasped. He started to bite down on his own wrist when Barry started vibrating, struggling so hard to muffle his voice. “Barry, you’re a jerk…”

Barry smirked and increased his vibration, hips bucked up in slow yet precise motion to assault Savitar’s prostate. He wanted to make Savitar gave up, to invoke loud sweet noises of pleasure to slip from the younger man, to have the younger speedster announce that Barry owned him to the rest of the rogues. His spine tingled with pleasure as he watched the dripping blood from Savitar’s wrist—the younger speedster was biting so hard on his wrist to muffle his screams. 

Barry liked that. 

His partner looked so cute, desperate and humiliated like this.

Barry ran his fingers up the shaking thigh, collecting the trickling blood—he knew there would be blood, he hasn’t prepped his partner properly after all—before pressing in his slick fingers inside, thrusting his slender fingers into the abused hole with pace matching his own thrusts.

Savitar was so close to screaming when the translucent curtain of their booth been parted open and Killer Frost walked in, Deathstorm was right on her heels.

Savitar whimpered, wrist already been abused badly while Barry gave a mischievous grin at their friends.

“Barry, I really hate you right now,” Frost grumbled, but didn’t make any move to walk out.

“This is getting too often…,” Deathstorm sighed in exasperation, taking his seat casually like it was a totally normal thing to do. He raised an eyebrow at the way Savitar trembled and trashed on Barry’s lap. “How long till you’re finished?”

Barry tilted his head to the side. “I could drag this for a couple more hours…”

Savitar choked and shook his head, beseeching pleading eyes looked up at Barry with tears brimmed in the corners of those mismatched orbs. “P-please, no…”

Barry grinned and pecked his partner’s lips sweetly. “I love your desperate pleading voice…,” he hummed.

Then, all of sudden his hips started blurring, causing Savitar to yelp loudly—if anyone had suspicion of what they had been up to, now the suspicion has been confirmed—before the younger speedster started to mewl and wail in pure pleasure, public indecency be damned. Barry’s hand did a quick blurring motion that neither Frost nor Deathstorm could see and it wasn’t long before Savitar let out a strangled cry and collapsed onto Barry, thoroughly used and sated. Barry showered him with kisses and waited until he had climbed down from his high before he tilted Savitar’s chin up.

“Open up, baby,” Barry murmured with enticing voice, and when Savitar shakily opened his mouth, Barry brought a used condom up to view and dumped the whole content into the open mouth. He gently pushed the open mouth close, all the while purring in sadistic pleasure. “Swallow it, sweetheart. It’s yours.”

Savitar did as he was told to, body completely sagged in Barry’s embrace as the older speedster threw the now empty condom into the trash bin. Barry showered his sleepy partner with gentle kisses and soothing massage, not even attempting to move to pull out of the abused ass. Wiping his hand clean on Savitar’s dark shirt, Barry slouched against the cushion, sated and content as he stared at his friends with expecting look.

“Your report?” He asked.

“Keystone and Coast City are clear,” Deathstorm said. “No sightings of any vigilante or anyone playing heroes. I suggest that we keep surveillance for a couple more months before we could be sure that the cities are hero-free.”

Barry nodded thoughtfully and tilted his head towards Killer Frost. “How about you?”

“Metropolis is clear. We retrieve a bunch of researches from the Superman’s HQ before burning them all to the ground. No sightings of heroes too,” she hummed, although a frown suddenly graced her face. “Can’t say the same with Star City, though. Green Arrow’s son is on the move, trying to continue Oliver’s legacy and try to take you down. He doesn’t have much supporter for now, but we can’t take this threat lightly.”

Barry felt sharp itches on his back.

His scars itched.

Just slightly, but it’s irritating.

He narrowed his eyes at the cold woman. “How old is he?”

Frost raised an eyebrow. “The kid? Twenty, I think.”

“You sure?”

“He is not a child, Barry,” Deathstorm said firmly.

With that confirmation, Barry relaxed and smiled. He planted a kiss over Savitar’s cheeks before tilting his head to stare into his friends’ eyes. “Can you have his head by Monday? I rather not have rats scampering around, spreading filth in my cities.”

Frost smiled. “That’s a tall order,” she giggled. “You want us to hunt down a young man who has been trained by the Green Arrow and have him killed in two days?”

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Is that too hard?”

Killer Frost and Deathstorm laughed. “No. Not at all,” they said in unison.

“I’ll gift-wrapped his head for you, Barry,” Frost smirked.

“Clean up his filth too. Do not leave any trace of heroics,” the orders were absolute and clear.

Savitar purred and leant up to kiss Barry’s throat. “You’re sexy when you’re bossy…,” he said, pawing on Barry’s chest.

Barry rewarded him with a searing kiss.

“Damn it, kids,” Killer Frost groaned, causing both speedsters to broke apart, their identical teasing grin been directed at her.

“On it, boss,” Deathstorm laughed and gave a mock salute at Barry’s direction. “And oh!” He halted and fumbled with something in his jacket, before tossing a small rectangular box towards Barry, “Joker sent a gift.”

Barry ran a finger over the nicely-wrapped box, green eyes stared at Deathstorm with calculative cautious manner as he tried to hide his wince and subtly rubbed his back to the plush cushion. 

It itched.

His back itched badly.

It started to drive him crazy.

He wanted to scratch the scars until they bled.

Savitar seemed to notice his discomfort and shifted on his lap, mismatched eyes no longer glazed with afterglow of sex—they were now sharp and alert, ready to act. There was a whirlwind of movement only Barry could catch as the younger speedster slipped off his lap to fix their disheveled condition. Barry tensed when Savitar’s hand slithered just briefly under his shirt to rub over his back before relaxing when the time remnant re-buckled his belt, lips quirked to a lazy fond smile as the younger man returned to his lap.

“How nice of Joker to send you a gift,” Savitar purred, tracing one finger over the ribbons. He planted a kiss to Barry’s neck. “You know, I like the new girl from Star City. Can we give her the privilege to open the gift for you, please?” He batted his lashes to Barry, and it would have been so adorable and cute, but his manic grin made it look disturbing.

Barry leant close to peck his lips. “Anything for you, babe,” he murmured, motioning Deathstorm to get said girl.

Deathstorm raised an amused brow but said nothing as he disappeared behind the curtains, only to return a few minutes later with a young woman that looked like she was in her early twenties. Her hair was dirty blonde, her body was wrapped in tight skimpy dress while her steel blue eyes stared at them in bewilderment. There was a flash of fear in her steely eyes.

“Hello, Laura,” Barry greeted and offered the giftbox to her. “If you could be so kind, can you please open this for me?” he smiled sweetly and tilted his head towards Savitar. “I have my hands full.”

Savitar snuggled closer in Barry’s embrace.

She shakily took the box from his hand, bewildered fearful eyes gaze wildly over all occupants of the booth before she pulled the ribbon free. Her pained scream then broke through the bustling music of the lair as the bright ribbon fell to the ground along with the lid of the box. Little choked noise tore out of her throat, her skin rolled down her face in big gallops to reveal her skull like some morbid melted candle. A snort of amused laughter escaped the four of them when the box slipped from the girl’s hands, her body fell to the ground with a loud ominous thud. Barry smirked, honestly amused at the miniature replica of Joker’s head that was spouting acid onto his floor. The head bounced on its spring, before it disintegrated on its own, only to reveal a compartment in the box. 

Killer Frost reached for the mask in the compartment and handed it to Barry.

“Nightwing’s mask,” she grinned, the heels of her boot crushed the melted flesh on the floor.

Barry ran a finger over the ridges of the black mask. “So, Gotham is finally clean from its bats infestation too, eh?” He smiled happily, handing back the mask to Killer Frost, his shoulders relaxed as the itch on his back slowly faded. “Send my _gratitude_ to Joker, and do remind him to find a less messy joke. I do not appreciate melted flesh on my floor,” he instructed with a roll of his eyes.

“As if he would listen,” Deathstorm snorted.

Barry sighed. “Well, we could always try.”

“I’ll put this with the rest,” Frost hummed, waving the mask in the air. She then narrowed her eyes at both Barry and Savitar. “And you two, go get a room.”

“Yes, mom,” Barry and Savitar said in unison, causing Deathstorm to snort while Frost rolled her eyes in annoyance.

Once the married couple has stepped out, Savitar bent down to grab the spherical orb that was rolling on the floor. His cheek was pressed to Barry’s chest as he brought the eye up, admiring the steely blue iris. He twirled the ball in his fingers.

“Such pretty thing, die so young….,” Savitar sighed, showing the eye to Barry with a sulky pout. “I actually do want to fuck her…”

Barry’s gaze flickered briefly to the knives that were hidden in the skimpy dress of the now dead girl and the one that was stabbed at the cushion near his left. Even at the brink of death, Laura had tried to aim a knife at his heart. What a strong courageous girl. Barry exhaled a heavy breath that resembled a regretful sigh and dropped a kiss over Savitar’s forehead, his lips curled to a smirk against his partner’s soft skin. 

“Right? She has Oliver’s eyes too. What a waste.”


	3. 37 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Barry's 37th birthday, he got drunk and got hitched in Vegas.

“Barry,” Savitar started, breath hitched in his throat when Barry pressed a palm over his mouth. He struggled to free his mouth, mumbling under his breath once he managed to do so. “This is suicide,” he scowled at Barry’s grin. “Barry, you’re insane.”

“Shhhh…..,” Barry hushed, placing a finger over his lips.

“Insane,” Savitar grumbled but kept his voice down regardless. “This is motherfuckin insane, Barry,” he glared at his older counterpart. “She’ll kill us.”

“What she doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her~” Barry hummed, fingers moving in superspeed to unlock the security system. He let out a silent cheer when the safe-slash-freezer unlocked and slid open.

Savitar eyed the content of the safe curiously.

“How do you know it is safe?” He asked, watching the older speedster retrieved a huge flask from the stash at the back of the safe. Shivering a bit at the cold of the freezer, he stepped back slightly. “Frost is still experimenting. How do you know that this is safe?”

“She gave it to me for a test run last week…”

“You mean when you went batshit drunk and slaughtered, like, the whole Rodriguez family in less than 5 minutes?”

“Meh, I never like that family. I’m not exactly fond of their business…”

“Says the man who phased people’s bone out on daily basis…”

“In my defense, it is less bloody.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Plus, they broke our rules.”

Savitar went silent for a moment. Barry took the chance to hoard another flask of speedster-proofed alcohol before closing the safe behind him. He turned around with a giddy smile, only to have the smiled dropped to a confused frown. Savitar stared at him, arms crossed over his chest, mismatched eyes scrutinized Barry with gaze so intense it could’ve burnt a hole in a wall.

“Babe?”

“You’re still not over it right?” the younger speedster sighed. “Your _alleged_ crime…”

Barry stiffened, his face fell to a complete poker face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, walking away around the time remnant with brisk normal human pace.

Savitar flashed in front of him. “Oh, no. You do know what I’m talking about.”

Barry scowled. “Does it matter?” he grumbled, trying to push Savitar away, but the younger speedster was particularly stubborn tonight. “I’m murderer now. I kill people just for the fun of it. My alleged crime back then is now very fucking real. Heck, it’s now my favourite past time.”

“Oh, but you’re no child abuser,” Savitar countered, lips curled to smug grin. “That family traded children as sex slaves. The city hated them. The police wanted to destroy them for good,” his grin fell to a grimace, eyes crinkled in concentration as if he was trying to see through Barry. “And there you went, drunk as fuck, as you slaughter the whole family before dropping the children at an orphanage…,” he stated flatly. “You should’ve seen the news report. With your history, the whole city honest-to-god expected to hear the trauma of the children but noooo….Lho and behold, surprise, surprise—,” he chuckled dryly, the sound almost mocking as he added, “…the Flash didn’t touch the children at all. Not one of the children were harmed. None of them were traumatized. Heck, they all straight-up glassy-eyed idolizing you for saving them.”

“It’s our rule,” Barry gritted out. “Children are off limits.”

“Yeah, right…,” Savitar rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea that the city now viewed you like the Green Arrow…? Saving people through force and blood?” he snorted. “They said that you’re back to a hero’s lifestyle,” he leant closer, circling his arms round Barry’s neck. “That doesn’t sit too well with me. We’re not heroes…,” he trailed, mismatched eyes were sharp as his gaze pierced into Barry’s own. “....aren’t we?”

Barry stared into those mismatched eyes, face emotionless though lightning blazed in his eyes. He balanced the flasks in one hand, moving his right hand to fist in the soft brown hair and brought the scarred face closer to him into a kiss. The younger speedster stiffened in shock at first, before he started pawing on Barry’s chest, lips parted open, whimpers spilling from his lips when Barry deepened the kiss. Barry curled his tongue, tangling the slick muscle with Savitar’s willing one, invoking the noise so sweet and lovely from the younger. He traced the warm cavern, ran his tongue over the younger’s teeth, lips dragged over in slow dance as he drank each of little noises Savitar slipped out with pure greed and lust. He ended the kiss with a gentle peck over the gaping lips, fingers tracing the flushed skin of the scarred cheek and he gave the younger man a fond smile when the hooded mismatched eyes sought his gaze.

“No, baby,” he murmured, tracing his thumb over the soft lips, hooking his thumb over the perfect line of teeth when Savitar leant forward. “We’re not heroes. Not anymore,” he sighed, spine tingling upon the way the talented tongue suckled on his thumb. “I haven’t been a hero ever since they threw me into that godforsaken hell.”

Savitar gazed into his eyes, mismatched eyes beseeching when he retreated with a long lewd lick along Barry’s fingers. He planted a kiss over each tip of Barry’s outstretched fingers, satisfied smile broke through his ever youthful face, one hand sneakily stole one of the flask in Barry’s hand. He took one tentative sip, feeling the strong buzz clouded his mind in an instant. Then, he started giggling—Barry was barely able to retrieve the flask back when Savitar decided to pounce onto him.

“That must be one strong alcohol….,” Barry said, amused at the giggling mess that was pawing on his chest. He raised said flask up to the moonlight, a frown graced his face. “We might need to dilute this with normal alcohol…”

“Date,” Savitar slurred, hands fisting on Barry’s sweater. “Let’s go. Date. Vegas,” he giggled, slightly swaying that Barry had to wonder if he had made the wrong decision to not get the proper confirmation from Frost whether these experimental alcohols were safe or not.

If Savitar remained drunk for the rest of the night, his plan was basically thrown out of the window.

Though, bless their rapid metabolism, the drunken giggle turned to slightly tipsy smile when Savitar dragged him by the collar to raid the fridge in their communal kitchen—the maid-in-charge of the night dropped a plate upon seeing their sudden entrance. She stammered out an apology, kow-towing meekly when Savitar weaved around her. Barry waved her away, dismissive and uncaring as his gaze focused on the way Savitar was scowling at the content of the fridge.

“S’ not here,” the younger speedster scowled, slamming the door shut and head to the next fridge, completely ignoring the terrified maid by the counter. He rummaged through the second fridge—Barry was sorely tempted to snap the younger man out of it but chose to restrain himself because this was far too amusing—and it took a complete 15 seconds for the psychopathic speedster to find what he was looking for and let out a drunken cheer. “Found it!” he grinned, and Barry raised an eyebrow in confusion as Savitar produced a small plate of cake from the fridge.

“Cake?” Barry had to restrain his urge to laugh. His younger counterpart was too weird sometime.

“Mm-hmm…,” Savitar nodded, his smile giddy. “Baked it myself.”

That had Barry’s brows to shoot up to his hairline.

“Happy old day, old man~” Savitar’s eyes were much clearer when he flashed to stand in front of Barry, the cake was balanced between their chest.

The next thing Barry knew was a cute little strawberry was shoved between his lips, the taste of whipped cream coated his tongue when Savitar pressed in and crushed the berry between their lips—slick sweet juice dribbled from the corners of their lips as the younger speedster dragged their lips slowly in one sloppy languid kiss. Barry parted his lips, allowing Savitar’s sweet tongue tangled with his whipped cream-coated one, his free hand immediately found its way round Savitar’s waist as the other speedster’s free hand clutched desperately on his arm. They parted, and Barry took the liberty of Savitar’s tipsy state to sneak a wink to the stunned maid, placing one finger over his lips in silent order for her to keep this a secret from his other friends before flashing out—the cake dish protectively covered, while the flasks were stashed alongside with a bunch of champagne and beer he stole from Deathstorm’s fridge in a bagpack.

Savitar wanted a date in Vegas, so Vegas will it be tonight.

It was fun.

Well, as far as he could remember anyway.

Barry woke up with sharp itches on his back. His scars tingled and itches, like annoying rash that tempted him to scratch them until they bled and he would feel nothing else. But, he has lived with these kind itches for years—it was the worse when he was in prison—and he knew what they meant. Thus, he resolved to let the tension ebbed from his shoulders, willing his body to lay lax over the warmth curled beneath him. Savitar was still fast asleep—the kid was a heavy sleeper, unlike Barry—and Barry shifted, eyes remained close when he nuzzled his face to the nape of Savitar’s neck, feigning sleep as his hearing picked up the soft footsteps treading across the room towards them and the hushed hisses of the intruders.

“Fucking arrogant speedsters…”

“Hey, shut it. We would be dead if they wake up.”

The scars on his back blazed in itchy pain.

Barry has to bite his lips to stop himself from groaning out loud.

“Pah! They were dead drunk. Did you see how much they drink last night?”

Resisting the urge to reach behind and scratch his scar, Barry tried to find an answer to that question, distracting himself from falling into his urges by forcing his mind to sort out the blurry memories last night. Most of them weren’t as clear as crystal, something that really irked him, but Barry knew that both he and Savitar had drunken a lot, if he was recalling these memories right.

“Just do it,” the nervous meek voice ordered, and Barry was instantly snapped back to reality.

“Fine, fine,” the gruff voice hissed, and Barry felt a presence near his side of the bed. “Not so strong, right now, eh, Flash?” 

Barry decided he no longer wanted to play possum when the voice sneered mockingly at him. He rolled around and thrust one vibrating hand into the warm torso, feeling the soft pulsing intestine against his skin.

He winced when he felt warm weight collapsed onto his hand—he must’ve had unintentionally punctured or destroy an organ or something.

Oh fuck…His power wasn’t at the most optimum. He couldn’t control his vibration, his mind was still slightly fuzzy.

“I beg to differ,” though, he sneered back, holding up a strong ruthless front. He held back the disgusted grimace that threatened to form on his face, because ew, he could never get over how Savitar and Frost seemed to love to poke around with people’s insides.

This slimy thing was disgusting. Ew.

His gaze flickered to the other intruder, who was gaping in horror when Barry slowly moved his vibrating hand up, caressing his way up the warm length of the dying man’s intestine, being mindful of the pulsing stomach because god knows what a bitch would that be if the digestive acid leaked onto his skin as he made his way up, cracking open each rib until he reached the faintly beating heart. He stared into the bulging eyes of his intruder and gave one flirtatious wink.

“Your heart will have a new home now,” he purred and ripped the heart out, making a mental note to find a nice jar to stuff this specimen in as one of his bribe to Frost.

He knew that she was going to ice his ass the moment he returned.

Moreover, now that he just killed some random guys who probably belonged to a mob family that have some beef with the Flash, _after_ he somehow won a gamble of ownership to one of the casino here while being drunk as fuck.

Frost probably wouldn’t be any happier the moment she noticed the glinting rings on Barry’s and Savitar’s left ring fingers.

Barry cackled. Drunk Barry Allen made the best choices in the world.

There was a bang and flickers of lightning, and Barry briefly made out Savitar’s blurred silhouette as the younger speedster leapt to catch the bullet aimed to his head, before proceeding to kill the second intruder—there was an ominous clang as the pistol bounced onto the ground, followed by the thud of dead body falling as Savitar pulled his hand out of his kill. Barry tilted his head, taking in Savitar’s very much disheveled and slightly confused face and resumed his amused gaze downwards, with more appreciative and heated look.

The itches on his back was gone.

“ _Barry_ ,” Savitar growled, scowling when he noticed Barry’s very obvious arousal. “The heck is this?”

“People trying to kill us,” Barry hummed, placing the warm heart over the dresser—he’d clean and get it into proper jar later. Maybe he should find cute ribbons to go along with the jar too—Frost like cute things.

“I’m aware,” Savitar rolled his eyes, his clean hand messed with his already fluffed and disheveled hair. He grimaced at the bloody mess in front of Barry and gave the older speedster a bemused look. “And you dare to complain that I’m messy…”

Barry beamed at him. 

Savitar huffed, rolling his eyes like the drama queen he was, moving his non-bloody hand to stifle a yawn before he paused, his gaze fixed on the ring on said hand. Incredulity and confusion streaked across his face as he blinked once.

Twice.

Thrice…

“Barry…,” he started, mismatched eyes flickered to the identical ring on Barry’s own finger, to the discarded clothing that were strewn haphazardly all over the floor before the confused gaze finally stopped on the white (with bits of blood splatters) veil draped over the mini-fridge, the unmistakable sheet of marriage certificate laid innocently beneath the fabric.

“What the actual fuck—”

Barry flashed Savitar into the bathroom before the younger speedster could even finish speaking, pinning the lithe body up against the cold wall as the warm spray of the hotel’s shower splattered over their bodies. Savitar blinked, a bit disoriented, probably still half-awake or assumed that he was dreaming as the water washed the blood off their hands. Barry planted a gentle kiss over the younger’s lips, moving his lips chastely until the confused frown grew to a smile as Savitar kissed back, slender hands found their way to loop around Barry’s neck, while long legs felt warm and oh so right to wrap around Barry’s bare waist.

They parted, the water grew slightly hotter against their skin (or perhaps it was their skin that heated up?) and there was an adorable flush colouring Savitar’s scarred cheek, the mismatched eyes glazed as they stared fondly into Barry’s.

“I wasn’t dreaming,” Savitar murmured, laughter erupted from his throat when Barry shook his head. “You really did propose to me.”

Barry pretended to not notice the tears when he peppered every inch of Savitar’s face with gentle kisses.

“The plan was to date, propose, plan our marriage, get drunk and fuck till we pass out,” Barry hummed against the wet skin, suckling lightly until a purple bruise bloomed on the pale skin. “You ruin everything when you downed the whole flask.”

“It doesn’t have to be in that particular order,” a soft chuckle, followed by affectionate nips along the outline of Barry’s jaw.

“And here I am spending weeks traumatizing Ronnie while trying to figure out the appropriate ways to be romantic to a psychopath,” Barry muttered, finger caressing his way down the tantalizing scar on the pale torso.

There was a beat of silence filled with sloppy wet kisses all over the span of sensitive burn scar when Savitar gently pushed Barry away, bracing himself against the wall as he pressed his palms over Barry’s heart. His voice was soft, scared and nervous as he asked;

“You won’t regret this?”

Barry brought Savitar’s left hand up, planting a kiss over the glittering ring—it was simple gold band, with little lightning bolt engraved on it, three little blue sapphires studded along the engravement. Barry’s ring was perfectly identical, only with rubies instead of sapphires. 

“Never,” he sighed then, intertwining their fingers together and brought their joined hands to rest against the wall. “Will _you_?”

Savitar tightened his grip on Barry’s hand and shook his head. “Never.”

With that, Barry swooped in for a kiss, lips soft and careful, filled with genuine fondness as his hips rolled slowly, rocking oh so gently with no urgency. He wanted to savour this, wanting to go slow and gentle for once. All these times it was pure lust, the needs to satisfy their crazy libido combined with immense hatred to their respective old flames—Barry’s traitorous Iris, Savitar’s hateful Barry—but now those old flames needed to die down. 

There was no more turning back for both of them.

They had strayed too far from their previous life to even had the chance to reclaim it.

“Barry…”

That sigh was one of the most musical sounds Barry had ever heard.


	4. 40 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Barry's 40th birthday, he learnt to trust and open up his shell.

“Quid pro quid?”

Barry stifled a yawn, pulling his mind back to the land of consciousness, head tilted to give a sleepy gaze to his partner. He took in the scarred face that was resting on his shoulder, the wide awake mismatched eyes, the messy yet extremely soft brown hair and the pouty bruised lips, only to find his own lips quirked to an amused smile.

How the hell the very same man who hung his victims’ intestine like some grotesque Christmas lights could look this adorable was a mystery to him.

Savitar shifted a bit until his cheek was pressed up Barry’s clavicle, their naked legs tangled with one another. “Come on, Barry. Humour me. It’s our third wedding anniversary.”

“It’s also my fortieth birthday. What the hell happened to after-sex cuddles and sleeping in?” Barry mumbled, but moved his arms to snake round the bare slim waist anyway.

“It can come after this, when I’m tired enough to fall asleep.”

Right. So today was one of those days where Savitar’s mind couldn’t shut down and he decided to drag Barry into the horrid land of insomnia.

Barry yawned, struggling so hard to stay awake. “Okay, shoot.”

“Who framed you?”

Barry shot his _husband_ a pointed look.

“You suck at pillow talk, Savitar,” he mumbled and flicked his finger over the time remnant’s forehead, his mood had soured considerably. “And to think _this_ is how my day started…”

His time in prison for the crime he didn’t commit wasn’t exactly the thing he wanted to talk about right after an extremely mind-blowing birthday slash anniversary sex, thank-you-very-much.

“Baaarrrrryyyyyyy!!!!”

God, why did he put up with this nuisance again?

“Some jackass speedster named Eobard Thawne,” he gritted out, feeling the scar on his chest tingled. “That bastard failed to kill me when I was eleven, so he decided ruining my life would be the second best thing.”

To his surprise, Savitar snorted. 

“What?” Barry raised an eyebrow.

“Do all Barry Allen in the multiverse have their life ruined by Thawne?” his younger counterpart grumbled, and Barry shouldn’t have been surprised to know that similar thing happened to the time remnant. It was bound to happen in parallel universes.

But he was surprised, regardless. They never talked about their childhood history before this.

“What did he, or his doppelganger did to you?” 

Well, since Savitar started this conversation, might as well he got to know his partner deeper.

“Tried to kill me. But future me saved me so he killed my mom instead. Dad got sent to prison because he tried to stabilize her and the pigs have no other person to point the crime to. Spent 15 years trying to prove Dad’s innocence, only to have him killed by Zoom the very year of his release,” Savitar said flatly, almost too emotionless that had Barry to squeeze the time remnant’s arms, knowing that there was pain hidden behind that cold façade. 

“At least you don’t wake up from three years coma to know that your Dad committed suicide, your Mom was locked up in asylum and you’re stuck with a rapist of a foster dad.”

Savitar’s breath hitched against his collarbone and Barry almost regretted exposing that tidbit.

His history with his foster dad was the reason his _former_ friends so easily accepted the plot of framing him years ago. As if he would do the same thing that bastard did to him to a helpless child. But then again, he was under a form of duress that time, so even though he was internally screaming that he didn’t do it, his mouth disagreed and fucking confessed. What a really unfortunate situation. Holding his breath, Barry glanced at the time remnant, and waited.

Waited for the proverbial shoe to drop.

Then, the time remnant snorted. “Guess you scored the short stick of luck, old man.”

“Bitch, I’m only six years older than you.”

The unexpected reaction invoked a defensive retort that almost made Barry cringed.

He didn’t cringe. Nope. Not when Savitar was eyeing him with that gloating tease in his eyes.

“Uh-huh. And if you paid attention to Frost’s nagging, I am going to age far slower than the rest of you. My cells didn’t work the same as yours. She estimated that my cells aged thrice slower than the rest of you,” Savitar’s tone was gleefully mocking. “By the time you’re in your fifties, I’m not even in my late thirties yet.”

Barry opened his mouth to retort, only to shut his mouth and scowled. 

Savitar grinned at him.

Then, the time remnant climbed up him, draping his lithe body over Barry’s own like a spoiled cat, his chin rest at the crook of Barry’s clavicle. The time remnant traced his collar bone with one finger, before shifting down so that he could kiss the scar on top of Barry’s heart. The soft lips lingered too long on the embossed skin, and Barry shivered when those lips parted to suckle on the oversensitive scar.

“This is where he stabbed you?”

Barry didn’t reply, so Savitar didn’t push. 

The time remnant continued peppering kisses over the scar, hands sneaked around Barry’s torso to caress the scars on the older man’s back. Barry tensed, adrenaline spiked as his mind reeled to the safest escape route he has as he felt them again; the rough phantom touches that made his skin crawled, the invisible hands that were recklessly manhandling him—despite the gentle and admiring way Savitar’s fingers caressed his skin. He knew it was stupid. That old man was among the first people he murdered when he was reborn and risen to his villainous glory. And as dangerous Savitar was, Barry knew that the younger speedster wouldn’t betray him, wouldn’t hurt him—

—but he couldn’t help it.

His scars itched.

They itched badly.

False alarm, he knew it. There was no real danger, here on their soft bed in Savitar’s floor of the Rogue’s Tower, they were safe in the presence of each other but yet—

—his body screamed to get into defense—he was in danger. He needed to destroy the danger. 

_Destroy destroy destroy—don’t wanna get hurt—_

“Ssshhh, Barry, shh,” Savitar cooed, leaning up to gently peck his lips. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Barry’s heart was thumping too fast against his ribcage, too loud to his ears that he almost didn’t hear Savitar.

“I know,” he gritted out, despite the way his muscles were awfully rigid and tensed, his mind still casing the closest escape route. “Old habit,” he sighed out once Savitar removed those wandering hands to rest on top of Barry’s chest, as if showing Barry that he was harmless.

Harmless and Savitar didn’t belong in the same sentence, so Barry was still a bit edgy.

“Still up for questions?”

Barry held in the urge to snort. “If I’m not, will you go to sleep?”

Savitar’s hair tickled his skin as the time-remnant shook his head. “Nope. I’m still not tired.”

“Damn it, kid,” Barry groaned. “How many of those energy bar did you scarf down before we started?”

“Ten? Fifteen?” Barry shivered at the pleasant slide of Savitar’s soft skin against his own as the time remnant shrugged. “I dunno. I was starving and don’t exactly have your patience to wait for properly cooked food,” he crinkled his nose as if the thought of waiting for food disgusted him. “You food snob.”

Barry sighed. 

Great. Savitar on energy rush. He really wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, was he?

“Fine,” he sighed, tightening his embrace on the slim waist. “Quid pro quid. Ask away, kid.”

“I wanna know about your Iris.”

Barry almost regretted for not obeying his body and just fell asleep for the rest of the night.

“She is a traitorous bitch,” he spat out through gritted teeth, but couldn’t find it in to scold Savitar when the younger speedster rubbed small soothing circles on his hip.

“Uh-huh….,” the lump of (meta)human on his chest nodded, slim fingers trailed random patterns on Barry’s skin. “What did she do?”

“I thought it’s my turn to ask question?” Barry shot him a pointed look.

“ _Puh-lease_ ,” Savitar huffed. “That little five-words reply was hardly answering my question.”

Barry sighed miserably. “She helped out when they arrested me. _After_ she told me she believed that I’m innocent. Gave me a literal stab at my heart with a dart that took away my powers right when we’re about to say our wedding vows.”

“That’s….”

“Too dramatic?”

“I wanna say that it’s some sort of Shakespearean level of betrayal right there but that’ll do to.”

“Wait, you have Shakespeare on your Earth?”

Savitar shifted his head so that he could give a very annoyed look at Barry and rolled his eyes. “Which Earth doesn’t have Shakespeare?” 

“Cold’s Earth doesn’t.”

Savitar stared at him incredulously. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“That’s...,” Savitar frowned, “…wow. Just _wow_. I can’t imagine an Earth without the stupid romance of Romeo and Juliet….,” he snorted, before leaning up to nibble on Barry’s clavicle. “But then again, Cold comes from the Earth where soulmates mark are actually real thing, so they probably don’t need any stupid romance play…,” he shuddered. “Wish I could be there when he finally meets his soulmate. That would be an interesting thing to witness…”

“He has given up on his soulmate. The kid would be like, twenty-something years younger than him.”

“We could always invite him to join us,” Savitar suggested, batting his lashes in what that supposed to look flirtatious—though, to Barry, he looked ridiculous instead. “He kept checking us out and both him and Heatwave had proven to be useful when he helped us back then, despite how young he was….,” he added, chuckling humorlessly.

“He rather stayed on his Earth. Our chaos isn’t exactly his style.”

“Pity,” Savitar waved his hands dismissively, before wrapping them around Barry’s waist again, lips jutted to a pout as he stared at the older speedster. “And you’re stalling. Come on. Let’s gossip about your dead ex-fiancée.”

“You’re starting to sound like some old gossiping ladies in suburbs, Savitar,” Barry grumbled, although there was no bite in his tone. “What’s there to know?”

“Like, the whole story of the epic betrayal…?” Savitar suggested, lips curling to a smug smirk. “Who knows if I got inspired and can become 21st century Shakespeare?”

Barry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “The day you start writing romance play is the day I committed suicide and left this fucked world for good.”

Savitar stared at him with a blank stare.

“Barry, you’re the one who fucked this world.”

Barry didn’t even want to argue that one.

“Point,” he agreed, exhaling a heavy tired breath. He shouldn’t have skipped his midnight snack. This was getting tiring and exhausting, but Savitar wouldn’t shut up if Barry didn’t give the younger speedster what he wanted. He groaned out loud, pulling Savitar up until the younger’s cheek was pressing tight against his throat. “The things I signed up for when I marry you….”

“Love you, old man,” Savitar snorted, kissing Barry’s throat fondly before he went into silence as if he was waiting for Barry to start speaking.

And Barry did. Each metaphorical pages of his life were bared open for Savitar to read. The younger speedster listened in silence, ear pressed tight over Barry’s chest—and it did amuse Barry, the way Savitar seemed to be comforted at the sound of his heartbeats—while his fingers loosely intertwined with Barry’s own. Barry kept talking, taking advantage of this rare comfort while Savitar kept listening, only interrupting to ask questions here and there but remained mostly silent.

When dawn came and the little beam of sunshine penetrated through their windows, Barry was mostly half-asleep, too exhausted to care that he was practically kneading on Savitar’s chest like a kitten. Savitar smiled, cooing him to sleep. He waited until the kneading turned to soft pawing, until the tension ebbed away from the older speedster’s body before he tentatively ran a hand over the scars on Barry’s back.

He held in his breath, waiting for a defensive reaction.

There was no defensive reaction.

But instead, Barry purred in content and snuggled closer to Savitar’s chest.

The scars didn’t itch.


	5. 43 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Barry's 43th birthday, he had a somewhat impossible but very pleasant surprise.

“Barry, I want your blueberry pancakes.”

Barry blinked, one hand came up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, eyes squinting through the dim lighting of early dawn as he tried to digest what he just heard. There was the familiar weight of Savitar’s palms pressing against his chest, bare ass wriggling on top his crotch with the thin sheet of their blanket separating them. Savitar was staring down at him, lips curled to adorable pout but all that Barry could think was— _what the fuck_?

Really. What the actual fuck?

“It’s still too early for your weirdness, honey,” Barry groaned, pulling the pillow to cover his face with full intention of going back to sleep.

“Blueberry pancake.”

Oh god. Savitar has started bouncing on his lap.

“Go ask the maid to make you some,” Barry groaned, pressing the pillow tighter over his face. He wasn’t young enough to entertain this randomness.

“Nooooo. I want your handmade pancake!!”

“Honey, please…”

“Up! Up! I want blueberry pancake!”

“Savitar….”

“Nuh-uh. Blueberry pancake!”

Barry let out a miserable sigh. He really wasn’t going to sleep in today, was he?

He threw the pillow off his face and glared at his partner, only to be taken aback with wide childish grin on Savitar’s face. This was no sardonic mocking grin like the time remnant usually displayed, but instead a genuine childish grin. Savitar honestly looked like an _innocent_ child, and that was saying something because he still has that jailbait look despite being chronologically mid-thirties.

But then again, his cells did age much slower than Barry, so there’s that.

Barry frowned at the nuisance that was sitting on top of him, taking in the way Savitar was staring at him happily—the time remnant’s hair fluffed out like chocolate dipped cloud, lips and scarred cheek stretched to a wide toothy grin while his mismatched eyes beamed brightly.

Savitar looked almost… _glowing_.

Sighing, Barry lifted his torso up and rested his forehead against Savitar’s. “If I make you some pancakes, will you shut up and let me sleep?” He mumbled, voice came out in a resigned tone.

Yep. Barry has fully resigned. This has somehow becoming a normal occurrence since the past few weeks, when Savitar started coming to him out of nowhere with requests for food.

Barry made a mental note to ask Frost if the experimental drug he accidentally gave Savitar two months ago had weird side effects.

“Up, up,” instead of answering him, the younger man tugged him up, Barry’s dead weight was nothing to his persistence as he tugged Barry off the bed. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

Barry sighed miserably. 

There was no way he was getting any sleep after this.

“Gimme a minute,” he said, ruffling Savitar’s hair before flashing to the bathroom. He came back out literally a minute later, fresh from the shower and fully dressed in his black trim-fitted jeans and peach button down, sleeves already rolled up to the elbows.

He then halted in his steps, staring with a half-incredulous and half-adoring smile towards his partner who was sitting at the edge of the bed. The younger speedster had shimmied into Barry’s discarded sweater, the low dip of the v-neck exposed part of his chest while the baggy length of said sweater hung way over his hips and almost fully covered his boxer shorts. Savitar was hugging the pillow, his mismatched gaze fixed on the floor, or rather, fixed at the methodical swings of his legs.

Barry had to admit that the swings of Savitar’s legs was almost hypnotic.

Savitar looked up slowly as if noticing Barry’s stare, that childish smile grew wider on his face as he bounced off the bed, skipped (he literally _skipped_! Now Barry was worried) towards Barry with the pillow squished up in one arm. He grasped Barry’s hand with his free hand and tugged the older speedster down towards their communal kitchen in a flash.

Killer Frost and Deathstorm were already there, lounging at the pantry with steaming mugs of coffee in their hands.

“Morning,” Barry greeted, resolving to ignore the bug-eyed stares he was receiving from his friends, as he made his way to the stove with Savitar’s trailing behind him.

Frost stared at Savitar’s hand that was holding onto Barry’s shirt, eyes wide behind her mug.

“Barry…,” Deathstorm started to snicker. “Should I ask?”

“Please don’t,” Barry shook his head, smiling weakly. 

He pulled out the ingredients, waving the maids who tried to help him away and proceeded to mix the batter, being mindful to not go to too fast. It was not long after that he started mixing a new batch of batter as the current one was sizzling on the stove, slowly being cooked to perfection. Barry worked silently, while Savitar, on the other hand, remained attached to his shirt, only tugging on the fabric when he wanted a spoonful of the batter—of which Barry dutifully fed him with an amused smile.

“One more,” Savitar moaned, opening his mouth and leant towards the spoon in Barry’s hand.

“You’re not supposed to eat pancake batter, honey,” Barry countered, exasperated yet resigned as he scooped another spoonful and offered it to the younger speedster.

“You still give it to me,” Savitar hummed, wrapping his arms around Barry’s waist and squished the pillow between their bodies. “Oooooh, blueberries~!” he giggled, picking one fresh blueberry from the bowl on the counter and popped it into his mouth, chin placed over the older speedster’s shoulder while he chewed as Barry turned around to flip the pancakes.

The maids seemed to be torn between being horrified at such uncharacteristic behavior or squealing in delight at the adorable way Savitar was clinging to Barry. Though, a glare from Barry sent them scattering to work as they quickly did the dishes before making themselves scarce to other parts of the building to do their tasks. Barry instantly relaxed once it was only the four of them in the area.

“Go grab yourself some drinks, Savitar,” Barry instructed with a tired smile. “I’ll be over with your pancakes in a minute.”

To his exasperation, Savitar shook his head and latched tighter onto his body. 

“Don’t wanna,” the younger speedster pouted.

Barry groaned.

Deathstorm was obviously amused, cackling softly underneath his breath, his nose pressed to his wife’s shoulder as he shook and trembled in laughter.

Killer Frost, on the other hand, had her icy eyes narrowed towards the pair. Her gaze was calculative throughout the whole period Barry kept piling stacks of pancakes onto the line of plates but she kept her silence until Barry and Savitar was seated in front of her. She waited until Savitar was fully occupied with the food when she decided to speak.

“Barry,” she called, tilting her head in the direction of the hallway. “We need to talk, NOW.”

Barry blinked, lips twisted to a grimace at her obvious displease but kept his expression calm regardless. He ruffled Savitar’s hair, smiling fondly when the younger beamed back at him with cheeks puffed with food before he finally stood, trailing behind Frost. They stopped just outside the entrance to the kitchen, in the hallway leading to the elevators to their private floors—and Frost must have understood Barry too well, because their current location allowed the older speedster to keep an eye on Savitar while simultaneously being out of hearing range.

“What did I do…?” he started, sipping on his coffee to mask his nervousness, the hair on his arm has started to rise upon the sudden drop of temperature and the swirls of light sheen of ice that started to coat the walls.

Crap. Frost was pissed.

Frost crossed her arms and stared at him in disbelief. “You dare to ask me that?”

“Uh…,” Barry said, confused and slightly terrified. His back started to itch, so he knew that Frost was serious—she was serious enough to be a threat to him. “I really don’t know…?”

The temperature dropped lower and Barry felt the speedforce within him trembled and struggled against the threat. He resisted the urge to attack her, because he knew that despite the blazing itch on his back and the danger she posed, she wasn’t doing this just to betray him. They had been working together for almost a decade now and Barry begrudgingly admitted that he trusted her.

Still didn’t explain why his scars tingled and saw her as a threat though.

“Really, what did I do?” Barry choked out, white mist puffed out of his mouth, light sheen of ice latched onto his skin, although they receded almost instantly the moment Frost noticed his pain.

“You probably just gave me months of sleepless nights and a massive headache. Damn it, Barry. I honestly prayed that the results of his monthly check-up were wrong but fuck—,” Frost scowled, although her tone was no longer hostile, the temperature risen just slightly as the ice on the wall slowly melted. When she stared at him, her gaze was more exasperated than angry. “I told you to keep your hands off him until I gave the confirmation that the effect of my experimental drugs gone.”

Barry shivered, trying to regain his fast cognitive processing again as he tried to recall that particular warning she had given him. Yes, she did warn him about that two months ago, when he mistakenly given Savitar an experimental drug rather than their usual sleeping pills henceforth causing the younger speedster to be seriously ill that Frost had to quarantine him. Frost warned Barry to stay away from Savitar until she gave the green-light, but Savitar had bounced back to health while Frost was away to meet her doppelganger in Cold’s Earth, so…

Honestly, what do you expect from two sexually active lovers that had been separated without sex for over two weeks?

Of course they fucked like a bunch of horny rabbits on Energizer batteries.

Barry really didn’t know why Frost had freaked out to find Savitar asleep in their bed, the evidences of their heated reunion were obvious that Barry couldn’t even came up with a lie to stop Frost from icing the whole building.

Mardon had way too much fun teaching Boo ice-skating that day.

“What did your drugs do, anyway?” Barry scowled, eyeing his now frozen coffee with distaste. “You had him quarantined for like two weeks and you freaked out when you found us together even though he seemed to be on his top health,” he grumbled, honestly still annoyed that both of them kept what had happened during those quarantine weeks a secret from him. “What? Did he develop some form of STDs for speedsters or something?”

Barry meant that as a sarcasm.

He didn’t expect for Frost to sneer and nodded solemnly at his sarcasm.

“Oh, you’re getting STD alright,” she hissed, her grimace was fierce. “When Savitar escaped the quarantine and straight up went for a wild romp with you—you two just signed up for a really dangerous disease that wouldn’t go away for 18 years,” she sneered at his confused frown. “Side effects included mood swings, odd cravings, drama, headache and so many other irritating symptoms.”

Barry stared blankly at her. _What the actual fuck_ —

“My drug changed his biology to that of a ‘she’ during those two weeks, Barry,” Frost smirked, perhaps enjoying the way Barry slowly paled as his mind caught on to her words. “And when _she_ went to you, _she_ hasn’t fully changed back to a ‘he’.”

Barry’s mind broke. 

“But—”

“Barry, why do you think Savitar insisted on having you drunk that night?”

Barry’s back started to itch and he didn’t even want to question it. This was a whole new level of danger.

He shakily peeked at Savitar who was happily shoveling pancakes into his mouth—and fuck, the kid did glow.

“Congratulations, Barry,” Frost smiled at his shocked stupor and thrust a piece of black and white picture at him. “It’s gonna be hard now that his external physical body had completely reverted back to that of a male, but I’m qualified for a C-section, and Caitlin was going to help too, so I assure you that I’ll make sure that they both went through this safely,” she smirked, strutting back into the kitchen, hips swayed with too much sass for her own good. “Now, go and rejoice, my friend…You’re going to be a father~”

Barry stared at her back with gaping mouth, before his gaze fell to the picture in his hand.

A tentative smile spread across his face.

Well, at least this ball of cells that was supposed to be his child looked healthy.


	6. 46 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Barry's 46th birthday, he got the scare of his life which ended in somewhat cute ending.

“No, no, no, no, come back here you little—hey, stop rolling—no, no, no, no—”

There was a crash, followed by Savitar’s whine of pain. There was childish laughter too that was countered by low grumbling by Savitar.

“Stay here and be a good boy while I go and grab your milk—oh fucking hell kid DID YOU JUST PHASE THROUGH YOUR OWN CRIB??!!”

Barry halted just outside the nursery, listening in to Savitar’s tirade and the laughter of their son with a soft smile on his face. The smile then turned to a frown as his gaze landed on his blood-soaked suit. He contemplated for a moment, before flashing away to get a quick shower and a fresh change. Even though Savitar was inclined to be nicer on Barry’s birthday, judging from the current tension between them, Barry thought that it would be wise of him to not cross any lines. Once he returned to stand awkwardly in front of the door, he did a quick check-up on himself, making sure no traces of his bloody encounter with the breachers earlier of the day was visible as he punched in the security lock, allowing the laser to scan his retina before silently pushed the door open.

He smiled upon seeing Savitar standing by the crib, rocking their two-years old in his arms as the toddler suckled on his tiny little thumb, one hand twisted and tugged gently on Savitar’s hair—a habit Barry knew indicated that the child was so close to sleep. He closed the door behind him, letting the security locked the door and shuddered as the waves of energy field been erected over the walls. Savitar looked up from their child to give him a wary stare.

Barry halted about a good two meters from both of them, arms outstretched for the child.

“Mind if I hold him?” he asked softly, the scars on his back itched and tingled when Savitar’s mismatched eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.

“Yes, I do mind,” Savitar spat out, backing away while his arms curled protectively around the sleepy toddler. “Get the hell outta here, Barry.”

“Savitar…,” Barry kept a composed face, trying so hard to not let the hurt from the words showed on his face. “I won’t take him away, honey.”

“Doubtful.”

“Babe, _please_. He is my son too.”

“You don’t seem to remember that when you decided to send him off to ANOTHER Earth, WITHOUT telling me.”

Barry sighed.

Savitar was still pissed.

“If I told you, would you allow me?” Barry asked, dropping his arms dejectedly, because it was clear that he won’t be feeling the warm weight of his son snuggling against his chest today.

“I carried him for nine months, Barry…,” Savitar growled, although his hostility suddenly shifted to concern when the toddler whimpered. He hushed the child, planting gentle kiss over the toddler’s soft temple before returning his glare towards Barry. “He grew _inside_ me. Do you honestly think that I’m going to ship him off to another Earth just because some cocky breachers started wreaking havoc in our cities?”

“It’s not forever,” Barry tried to reason. “Once we take care of Zoom and clean our cities from these breachers, we’ll retrieve him back,” he pleaded, letting his guard down to show bare his emotions to the younger speedster. This was no game of manipulation. Barry was genuinely worried over the safety of his little boy. “It’s too dangerous for him to be here. We’re lucky that no one apart from the two of us knew that our son is here, but this luck will run out soon.”

“So adamant of getting rid of him…,” Savitar sneered, stepping backwards as Barry tried to inch forward. “I should have known that you don’t want him from the start.”

Barry’s breath hitched.

Those words stung worse than he expected.

“Savitar…”

“STAY. AWAY.”

“Earth-34 is peaceful. He will be safe there,” Barry said, voice calm yet persuasive despite the raging emotions inside him. “Plus, he’ll be in good hands. Lena is strong enough to protect him—”

“Did you not remember who _Lena Allen_ ’s husband is? Her husband is a god damn goody-two-shoes hero,” Savitar cut him off, lips curled to a mocking sneer. “I’m not letting my son go anywhere near that _abomination_.”

“Either that, or we risk Zoom finding out about our son,” Barry tried again, his voice grew a bit more strained now. “Honey, Henry is two. I know that our son is incredibly brilliant but he is still a toddler. If we cleaned this whole mess with the breachers within a month, he wouldn’t be able to remember all the heroic bullshits our doppelganger would try to feed into his mind.”

Savitar curled his lips in an angry grimace but said nothing.

“And Lena lived by a code of honor despite being married to a hero,” Barry took the chance to persuade more. “She owed us. She would do anything to pay that debt off, including restraining the urge to influence our son to the bright side..”

“Her husband wouldn’t,” Savitar retorted, though the hostility in his voice seemed to diminish now. 

“And it’s his life that Lena tried to save when she made the deal with us,” Barry gave a tentative smile, sensing the lack of hostility in his spouse’s words.

Though, before he could placate Savitar even further, there was sharp pain blazing on the embossed taut skin of his back. He winced and shot a cautious look around, trying to look for the threat as the ground suddenly trembled underneath them, the walls shivered and protested against some powerful force. Barry barely had the time to flash towards Savitar, wrapping his arms around both his partner and their son as there was an explosion—the walls and roof collapsed around them. He carried them both away from the ruins of the little safehouse, adrenaline and anger spiked at the terrified whine from the toddler pressed to his chest.

“Well, well, well,” the scratchy voice of black-clad speedster greeted him as the dusts of the destroyed house settled to the ground. “The rumours are right. You do have a child…”

Barry twitched, teeth flashed in a grimace at the immense itch on his back. “Zoom,” he hissed back, stepping forward to hide his son behind him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing you here too, Flash,” Zoom mocked, stepping over the rubbles as he gave a cursory glance around the destroyed house. “You didn’t strike me as the guy who would fancy a lonely-cottage-at-countryside…”

“I guess your assumptions about me is wrong,” the sneer came out a little strained, but his son was squirming behind him, little fists struggle to escape Savitar’s hold and tugged on the back of his shirt.

Barry felt the tension radiating from the younger speedster intensified when he felt warm weight clung onto his shoulder, the soft chubby cheek of his son pressed to his neck as the child peeked towards Zoom. There were some desperate rustles of movement as Savitar tried to pull their son back to the safety of his embrace, but the child was having none of it. One little hand reached out over Barry’s shoulder and the little giggle from the toddler would’ve sounded so sweet if they weren’t in this kind of situation.

“Zoom!!” the child garbled, clapping happily when Zoom turned his attention towards him.

Barry could tell that Zoom was grinning behind that mask.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Flash?” the black-clad speedster sneered, inching closer with arms outstretched as if inviting Henry towards him.

“HENRY, NO!!!”

Savitar’s scream was the only warning Barry got when his son suddenly climbed over his shoulder, leapt gracefully to land in front of Barry and promptly sped away towards Zoom. Barry had to restrain Savitar back, locking his arms around the waist of his hysteric spouse as their son reached Zoom. Cold sweat dripped down Barry’s cheek when their little boy reached out both of those little arms up towards their enemy.

Though, the itch on his back receded, as if there was no more threat.

Which was ridiculous, judging from the current situation.

“Up!” Henry squealed, eyes bright and wide despite the scary design of Zoom’s mask.

“Your son is excited to meet me,” Zoom mocked gleefully, clearly enjoying the way Barry struggled to restrain the screaming Savitar—the younger speedster had clawed on Barry’s skin, the tip of his fingers dug and phased into Barry’s arms, causing the older speedster to hiss in pain. Zoom bent down, amused as the toddler promptly leapt into his open arms and clung to his neck. “Heh. I might adopt him if—”

Savitar’s scream was deafening.

Barry watched, baffled and dumbfounded at the sprout of blood that splashed over his son—and he had to wonder if Zoom had attacked little Henry or his eyes weren’t actually playing tricks on him.

Because Barry just saw his little boy thrust one of those little arms through Zoom’s throat.

The tinkling giggle of his son halted Savitar’s scream and confirmed Barry’s suspicion of what he had saw. The little boy turned his face to stare at them, blood dripped from the matted brown hair down to the chubby cheeks and drenched the green onesies red. Barry could make out Henry’s little hand wriggled at the back of Zoom’s neck before the toddler pulled his hand back, dragging what it seemed like severed spinal cord with it. Zoom fell onto the ground the exact moment Savitar escaped Barry’s hold—the younger speedster had their son pressed against his chest in a heartbeat, cradling the bloodied toddler while cooing softly despite the obvious fact that Henry was not even traumatized with the change of events.

The kid was giggling for fuck’s sake.

Barry didn’t know whether to be horrified or relief when Henry offered him the severed spinal cord—his own throat clenched upon seeing the chunks of bones sticking out of the organ—all the while the toddler was giggling oh so sweetly. The child pouted when Barry pried the thing off his little grip and threw the disgusting warm object away. Savitar appeared to not notice, as he seemed to be trapped in a trance—cooing and trying to comfort Henry—thus causing a shocked hitch of breath to escape him when Barry embraced him, their son pressed between their chests. Henry clapped happily, enjoying his comfortable position being stuck between his parents, a sweet squeal escaped his garbles when Barry kissed his forehead.

“I think Henry was trying to make a point….,” Barry murmured, shifting his face to plant a gentle kiss over Savitar’s temple.

“What?” Savitar snorted, staring in amusement. “That we’re terrible influence on him?”

Barry shook his head. “I think he wanted us to stop fighting,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction to the little warm weight between their chests.

Their eyes zeroed into the way Henry was tightly fisting on the front of their shirts as if the child was trying to pull them closer. Then, Henry seemed to notice that his parents’ eyes were on him, because the child promptly tilted his head up, showing one toothy smile towards them.

“Dada, Daddy no fight?” he garbled, staring up curiously at them.

Savitar laughed, pulled the child up and kissed his cheeks fondly, completely ignoring the blood that was dripping from Henry’s hair. Barry leant in for a kiss too, squishing the adorable (bloody) toddler between him and Savitar, in one big hug.

“No more fights, little one,” he hummed, eyes softening when Savitar’s mismatched eyes glanced at him. 

Henry shifted his gaze to Savitar, those wide adorable green eyes stared hopefully at him, thus invoking a fond smile on the younger speedster’s face.

“Yeah, no more fights,” Savitar smiled, leaning closer to kiss Barry on the cheek.

Henry clapped and cheered as Barry’s eyes fluttered close—both parents moved to a chaste press of their lips, savouring the sense of relief now that their biggest threat was gone. They parted when Barry suddenly snorted a laugh, hence prompting Savitar to scowl at the sudden change of mood.

“What?”

“I was thinking of what kind of trauma our Earth-34 doppelganger would suffer if he saw this...”

Barry laughed, pointing at the way Henry was attempting to phase out of their arms, green onesies and thick brown hair drenched with blood while the little grabby hands reached out to Zoom’s corpse as if the dead black-clad speedster was one big toy that the child wished to play with. Savitar grinned sardonically, placing his son down and watched in complete amusement when the child promptly sat on top of Zoom’s chest, those wide eyes grew even wider in awe and wonder as he stared at his first kill. Savitar ruffled Henry’s hair, tilting his face up to sneer at Barry.

“Still think it’s a good idea to send him off to another earth?”

Barry stared down, gazing at the way little Henry gently poked at Zoom’s unseeing eyes, seemingly interested in trying to pluck the eyes out. The child looked up to meet his gaze, the huge green orbs were wide and pleading as he pointed at the dead speedster’s eye, giving his parents his best adorable face while he demanded;

“Want eyes.”

Barry sighed miserably, thinking back at the jars of specimens his son has taken a shine to whenever they caught him in Frost’s lab and he had to wonder what had gone wrong that their child grew up to be like this. 

Though, as per usual, Savitar, the ever super-doting father, instantly scooped Henry up, murmuring promises to have Zoom’s eyeballs preserved in cute little jar for the kid—

Yep. It was completely Savitar’s fault that their child turned out like this.


	7. 48 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Barry's 48th birthday, he spends his time with Len and Lisa.

_“Dad, come on!!!”_

“Henry, no.”

_“Please? Pretty please? It’s so much fun here, I don’t wanna go home yet…”_

“Still a no. I’m picking you up in an hour.”

_“Daaaaaaaaaaaddddd!!!”_

Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to fend off the incoming headache as he restrained himself from glaring at the holographic screen. He didn’t even want to look at the screen, knowing that he would lose the little shreds of his resolve the exact moment he met the wide pleading gaze of his five-years-old son.

Damn it, the kid hasn’t even reached double digits age yet but he has already mastered the manipulation game.

Squaring his shoulders, Barry scowled at the screen, determined to not fall to Henry’s puppy eyes trick. “Don’t you pity your old man, kid? You don’t even want to come back and celebrate my birthday?”

 _“Well…._ ,” Henry trailed, obviously a bit guilty now before he beamed back to his default cheerful mode. “ _It’s not like I don’t want to celebrate your birthday…_.”

“Then why are you so persistent on not wanting to come home?” Barry growled. 

It was his biggest mistake to tell his son that one of his doppelganger was a wizard and a well-known potion master. One visit to Earth-77 and Henry now wanted to spend most of his free time there learning whatever the heck magical chemistry his doppelganger on Earth-77 was cooking up in his eerie dungeon. 

The fact that Bartholomew lived alone in a forest that housed so many magical beasts had made it even difficult for Barry to persuade his son to come home.

“ _After the silly fight you had with Daddy the other day—which, by the way, I’m totally taking his side, cuz pineapples don’t belong on pizza, Dad—_ ,” Henry popped his lips, attempting to be cute despite the evil grin that grew on his face. “ _I just thought you want to spend more time with him without the reserves of protecting the non-existent innocence of my ears. It is your birthday and wedding anniversary after all…_ ”

Barry choked on his coffee. Damn this kid…

Though, before he could retort back, he heard the muffled voice of his doppelganger from Henry’s side, followed with a loud noise that suspiciously sounded like an angry beast flapping its wings;

“ _Hey, Henry…Wanna try to ride a dragon?_ ”

Barry watched Henry’s eyes widened in excitement and knew that further attempts to placate his son to come home was futile. He gave Henry a blank unimpressed look when the kid yelled back at Barry’s Earth-77 doppelganger, telling Bartholomew that he would be over in a few minutes. The kid then turned his head to the camera, teeth flashed in a bright grin as he beamed adorably at Barry.

“ _I’m in the middle of a huge project with Bartholomew, so…can you pick me up next month? After the Great Massacre Day? The project should be completed by then_ ,” Henry halted, pondering for a moment before he added, “ _You can have some grown-ups fun with Daddy and your new boyfriend that night, no need to worry about protecting my innocence—oh, Dad, don’t give me that look. Both of us knew that you’re seeing someone else, and Daddy is pretty irked that you don’t wanna share, so…_ ,” the kid grinned as Barry gaped, “ _….I expect by the time I come home, you have introduced your boyfriend to him so that Daddy would finally stop complaining. Sharing is caring, Dad, so stop hiding your not-so-secret boyfriend before Daddy loses his patience and started digging around…_ ,” yep, that was Barry’s jaw officially unhinged from his skull as his five-years-old kept rambling, “ _...I’ll be sure to bring souvenirs for your boyfriend too—I hope he would like me and we could get along well—_ ”

Barry was too stunned to even try to speak when Henry bid goodbyes and loves to him before the kid promptly hung up.

He then stared at the blank screen in disbelief.

_What the actual fuck—_

“Why aren’t you like normal kids, Henry…,” Barry whimpered, resisting his urge to bang his head to the smooth polished surface of his table.

The table seemed so inviting though, prompting him to submit to the urge to bang his head to its shiny surface. Shoving back his multiverse communicator into his back pocket, Barry flashed out, determined to have some fresh air before he had to face Savitar in the next hour and tell his spouse that their son wasn’t coming back until next month.

Barry winced. That wasn’t the conversation he was looking forward to.

Snuffing out a random burst of flame on his sweater, Barry treaded slowly on the paved path, not paying attention to the visitors of the park who seemed to have taken notice of him and gave him a wide berth of space like he was a plague. He ignored them, resolving to sit on the bench nearby, letting the warmth of sunset breeze hit his skin as his eyes fluttered close. It was a rather tiring week for him, with the addition of Savitar sulking and moping around—Mother Hen Syndrome, as Barry and Deathstorm had agreed—so needless to say that Barry wasn’t really looking forward to breaking the news that Henry refused to come home to Savitar.

Thinking back at how weird his son’s behavior was as compared to normal kids—and that wasn’t even coupled with the fact that Henry had showed advanced cognitive power that made the kid smarter than normal adults—Barry suddenly had that serious needs to bang his head to any solid surface available again. 

Why must his family be twistedly messed up like this? 

The surface of the oak tree next to him seemed so inviting now, but he has an image to uphold, and the sight of the Flash banging his head to a tree in the local park wouldn’t be an intimidating sight at all— 

"Um, Barry….are you okay?”

Barry opened his eyes, finally realizing that he had been banging his forehead to his fists all these times and it had attracted the attention of the parents watching over their children at the playground—although neither of them dared to meet his eyes when he sneaked a look at them. Though, in contrast to the wary parents, the teenage boy was staring at him, thick brows furrowed in worries while those icy blue eyes flashed in concern. The little brunette girl holding onto his hand stared at Barry curiously, her wide eyes alternated between her brother and Barry.

“Lenny? Who is this?” she questioned, eyeing Barry with complete interest. 

Barry watched in complete amusement when Len spluttered, obviously trying to find an explanation to introduce Barry to his baby sister without slipping in the fact that Barry was one of his regulars at the Devil’s. Pink tint crept up Len’s neck as Lisa’s stare grew more curious and intent that Barry chortled out a laugh.

Oh, how he wished that his son could be as innocent as Lisa.

But then again, Henry’s first kill was when he was two and the guy was a crazy speedster from another universe, so… 

There was no way his little boy could be as innocent as Lisa.

But Barry longed to entertain such innocence. 

Thus, Barry stood from his seat, only to drop onto one knee kneel in front of Lisa. “Hello, Princess Lisa,” he hummed, voice smooth and charming as he reached for her hand, a little giggle escaped her lips when he planted a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “I’m Barry, a friend of your brother.”

Len flushed slightly upon hearing that.

“Princess?” Lisa, on the other hand, immediately squealed, clearly happy being treated like that.

Barry mocked a shocked look. “Pardon me, Your Highness. Am I wrong? Are you perhaps the queen instead of the princess?”

Lisa started giggling. 

Barry smiled back, stealing a quick glance at Len who was staring at him with half-awed, half-adoring look. The boy averted his gaze when his eyes met Barry’s. Standing properly, Barry offered his arms towards Lisa, of which she happily leapt into, enjoying the free ride he was offering to her. She wrapped her tiny little arms round Barry’s neck, being a generally good child as Barry carried her with Len walking silently beside him. 

The bug-eyed disbelief look they were receiving from the other parents as Barry played with Lisa in the playground was so hilarious that it tempted Barry to show his power and took Lisa for a run just for the hell of it. Though, he resisted that temptation, and pointedly ignored the attention they were receiving, especially when Len joined Barry and Lisa in the sandbox, helping them to build whatever castle that Lisa was trying to build.

By the time the darkness had engulfed their surroundings, Lisa was worn out and curled up in Barry’s arms, her tiny little fists tightened on Barry’s sweater as she kept trying to stifle her yawns. Len walked beside Barry, silent as the dead, although the nervous energy that radiated from him thrummed restlessly for each step they taken heading out of the park.

“Umm…,” the teenage boy started, though he seemed to swallow back his words when Barry tilted his gaze towards him.

“Yes, Lenny?” Barry smiled, rocking Lisa slowly when the little girl started to doze off in his arms.

“I’m sorry about her…,” Len muttered, clearly embarrassed with the way Lisa so comfortably curled in Barry’s arms.

“Nah, I like it,” Barry shrugged. “She’s a good girl.”

That invoked a soft smile on Len’s face. “Yes, she is,” he agreed easily, before halting as they now at the entrance of the park. He offered his arms to take Lisa back.

Instead of obliging to Len’s silent request, Barry shook his head and adjusted Lisa in his arms, allowing the little girl to snore softly on his shoulder. He grasped Len’s outstretched hand, having no restrain to hold the boy’s hand now that no one was around to witness his show of affection. Len spluttered at the sudden action, but silently obliged, his fingers tightened around Barry’s hand as they walked down the familiar road heading towards the dingy motel Len was staying at. Len seemed uncomfortable to have Barry following him into the dingy motel room, of which Barry pointedly ignored, liking the company enough to dismiss the shabby environment.

“I’m ordering food,” Barry called out once they had placed Lisa onto the bed and Len was busying himself trying to prepare the bath for the little girl. “Anything you want in preference?"

“Wait, what—” Len spluttered, poking his head out of the bathroom as he stared at Barry with flushed cheeks. “You don’t have to—”

“Lenny, it’s my birthday. Let me spoil someone for today,” Barry smiled, waving the worried boy off as he proceeded flip through the takeout menus, resolving to order something from each restaurant listed there.

“But—” 

“Please, I insist.”

Savitar was probably still moping and sulking in Henry’s room (like he had been doing since the past few weeks) and wouldn’t care if Barry had dinner outside—he really didn’t care about Barry these days, now that Barry thought about it. It was irritating, but Barry had gotten used to fall onto second place whenever Henry was in the competition. Sighing, Barry proceeded to order the food, being mindful to add some sweet varieties for Lisa. After placing the orders and be assured that their food will arrive in half an hour, Barry turned towards Len with a smile, only to frown when he saw the embarrassed flush on the boy’s cheeks and the little shivers ripping down the slender malnourished body. 

“Lenny?” 

He saw everything in slow-motion, but yet his body didn’t move to react when Len pounced onto him, chapped lips caught his own into a hurried kiss, warm palms pushed up his shirt to map out his chest and he only started reacting when Len parted his lips, of which he took as the permission to deepen the kiss. They tumbled in the small room until they made it into the bathroom, the only safe place they had in case Lisa woke up and caught them. 

Barry exhaled a shaky breath when Len’s hand slipped inside to stroke him. 

“Lenny,” he bit back a moan, one hand curled on the nape of the boy’s neck so that he could pull the boy away. “Hey, baby, snowflakes,” he murmured, digging his nail slightly into the boy’s neck to gain Len’s attention. “You’re not working tonight, Lenny. You don’t have to do this,” he hissed when the boy’s slender fingers flicked over his slit and spread the pre-cum around the sensitive head. “I’m not treating you so that I could get into your pants. I genuinely wanted to spoil you and your sister." 

Len hushed him with a gentle kiss. 

“I know, Barry,” the boy hummed, mouthing on Barry’s neck hungrily. “You’re always so kind to me,” he murmured, lips sucking hard enough to leave marks on Barry’s skin while his hand moved a little bit faster, until Barry had no choice but to lean over the sink, head thrown back against the cracked mirror as the speedster tried his best to restrain his powers. Len pecked Barry’s lips again, before promptly dropped to his knees.

“Lenny, you really don’t have to—”

“I want to, Barry,” Len pleaded, tugging Barry’s jeans down to reveal his prize. He licked his lips, tilted his head up to stare wantonly at the older man. “Please."

Barry groaned, screwing his eyes shut and threw his head back, his breathing grew labored when he submitted to Len’s needs and wants.

He prayed hard that they didn’t wake Lisa up with this little endeavor. 

One innocent child ruined by his hands was enough.


	8. Shower and Angry Killer Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extension of Chapter 3...because any installments of this series wouldn't be complete without a sex scene. lol

“You won’t regret this?”

Barry brought Savitar’s left hand up, planting a kiss over the glittering ring—it was simple gold band, with little lightning bolt engraved on it, three little blue sapphires studded along the engravement. Barry’s ring was perfectly identical, only with rubies instead of sapphires. 

“Never,” he sighed then, intertwining their fingers together and brought their joined hands to rest against the wall. “Will _you_?”

Savitar tightened his grip on Barry’s hand and shook his head. “Never.”

With that, Barry swooped in for a kiss, lips soft and careful, filled with genuine fondness as his hips rolled slowly, rocking oh so gently with no urgency. He wanted to savour this, wanting to go slow and gentle for once. All these times it was pure lust, the needs to satisfy their crazy libido combined with immense hatred to their respective old flames—Barry’s traitorous Iris, Savitar’s hateful Barry—but now those old flames needed to die down. 

There was no more turning back for both of them.

They had strayed too far from their previous life to even had the chance to reclaim it.

“Barry…”

That sigh was one of the most musical sounds Barry had ever heard.

"Savitar …," Barry murmured, and instead of tangling his fingers possessively in Savitar's hair like he often did, he let his fingers skimmed down the bare sides, mapping the contrast between smooth skin and the twisted skin of the burn scar with touches just hard enough for it to be a sensual motion instead of ticklish, and rested them on the slender hips. "Before we get way too frisky, you think I could get one quick kiss?" 

Savitar shivered as Barry’s hands settled on his hips, those thumbs stroking his sensitive skin, his breathing grew a bit more labored, his legs automatically wrapped tighter round the older man’s waist. He loved it when Barry roughly manhandled him, but this, Barry acting all loving and sweet, was even better. Savitar had to fight to keep his lashes from fluttering shut, feeling the heat of a blush dusting his cheeks. Why did Barry always have this kind of power on him? It was impossible to remain aggressive against him when he was acting sweeter than usual like this, asking Savitar’s permission for everything, and being so gentle to him. 

Even on this Dark Earth, Barry Allen was going to be the death of him.

“…Yeah,” Savitar breathed, leaning towards the older speedster, craving the closeness once more. He allowed Barry’s lips to brush against his, parting his lips to allow Barry to deepen the kiss before he was even asked, whimpering with need. 

The strong response he got from Savitar shocked Barry a bit, but not in an unpleasant way. Savitar's lips were eager, allowing him to deepen the kiss quickly. Barry removed one hand to cup Savitar’s scarred cheek, the other gripped tighter round the trim waist. The wet slide of their skin, coupled with the erotic slide of their hard flesh invoked soft moans to spill from his lover’s lips. Those small pleasured noise set Barry's blood on fire, his own body blurred in excitement, so he quickly pulled away from the kiss with a small gasp. 

"Damn it, kid… I was planning to be at least a bit romantic with you today…," Barry grumbled, tightening his grip on his lover's hips slightly and rested his forehead against his newlywed husband’s. 

If he wanted to keep on with his plan, to render the younger speedster breathless with gentleness and affection unlike their usual lustful romp, Barry was in serious need to keep his non-existent self-control in check. He was already hard and buzzing with excitement and it wouldn't take much for him to forget everything he had planned to devour Savitar in the sweetest gentlest way possible—to make today’s different from their usual rough sex.

Savitar whined desperately, legs slid lower down Barry’s thighs.

God damn it, Barry was at his wit’s end.

With a new resolve, Barry quickly leant away and adjusted the shower until the water left tingling feeling on his skin. He planted desperate small kisses all over his lover’s skin, who was looking a little bit dazed. Barry trailed his hands lower, wrapping his arms tight round Savitar’s torso, holding the younger speedster close again, all the while trying his best to ignore the erotic slide of Savitar's wet skin against his. 

"I really don’t want to take you right here," Barry grunted, and that was the truth. At least for today, he wanted to wine and dine Savitar properly, consummating their new bond without their usual ruthless kinky behavior being thrown into the mix. 

Of course, that was sort of thrown out of window now with two dead bodies quite literally lying around just outside the door.

But Barry wanted to salvage this—he did have a backup plan, one involving a private island, small homey cottage and beautiful beach that they could reach within fifteen minutes of superspeed casual running.

Killer Frost still didn’t know that both Savitar and Barry wouldn’t be around for the next two weeks.

Barry gulped when Savitar’s heels dug at the back of his knees, feeling his resolve shattered to pieces at the low wanting groan that tore from the time remnant’s throat. He held back a whimper, the hot spray of the water made him felt dizzy as he tried to find his words. 

“But, if you want it, you need to tell me now,” he managed to choke out as he cupped Savitar's ass, and ground their hips together meaningfully, moaning quietly at the slight friction. "I promise to be gentle, if you want." 

Savitar moaned as Barry’s hips ground into his, and he brought his hands up to clutch on Barry’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the skin as pleasure clouded his senses. “Barr…Barry...,” he panted, suddenly needing more. 

What had happened to his cold-hearted persona? He wasn’t like this. Wasn’t the kind of guy who would behave as unsightly as this but yet look at him now. Whimpering and practically begging to be devoured, Barry’s small pleasured noises doing absolutely nothing to help his cause. He knew he was going to pay for this later, as his body was still healing from the pain, from the rough ruthless way Barry had taken him last night. He has super healing, but it appeared the speedster-proofed alcohol had delayed his healing, leaving him with immense soreness and sharp pain he rarely suffered. He was going to be hurt even more if they do this here, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted this so bad. 

“Barry, please, I need you,” he whined, bucking his hips forwards into Barry’s, pleased with the strangled moan that tore from the elder’s throat. Savitar leaned forward slightly again, pressing a kiss to Barry’s lips, nipping at the bottom one before he abandoned the kiss, instead trailing soft kisses up his lover’s jaw line, unable to stop himself. “Need you to be gentle though,” he breathed out against Barry’s damp skin, finding it difficult to form sentences, feeling almost dizzy with the intensity of his arousal combined with the heat of the shower. “Don’t think that my healing is kicking in yet. It still hurts.”

He then realized what he just whined out and wanted to kick himself.

Barry wouldn’t let him live this down—Savitar, the God of Speed, whining about pain from ruthless sex. How humiliating.

Unknowing to him, Barry's own head was spinning with desire from the feel of his lover's lips against his jaw. The friction from their hips moving together, combined with the little groans falling from Savitar's lips was a lethal combination that made his eyes fluttered and unfocused momentarily. 

"Sorry, babe," Barry bit his lip to keep from attacking the tempting skin on Savitar's shoulder; he had promised to be gentle after all. “I’ll be gentle.”

Savitar whimpered in pain when Barry was so much brush the tip of his finger against the sore entrance, his fingers digging into Barry’s skin.

Shit.

Guess the experimental alcohol did have a downside that needed to be reviewed after all.

"Shh…Savitar," Barry hushed, voice muffled against Savitar's shoulder, which he was sucking on gently, not enough to leave another mark. Then he slowly pushed a finger inside his lover's hot body, hoping the water would serve as good enough lube so that he wouldn't hurt Savitar too much. 

“Love you,” Savitar whimpered out as he felt one of Barry’s fingers slide carefully inside of him, and he tried to hide the wince the action caused, focusing instead on the feeling of Barry’s mouth on his shoulder. 

Savitar didn’t want to give Barry reason to stop what he was doing; his healing was delayed, but that didn’t mean that he was some fragile porcelain doll that needed to be handled with extra care. He could take the pain. And he just wanted to feel Barry inside of him as soon as possible. Barry was being gentle with him so far, something that Savitar really bask in—a rare occurrence as opposed to the usual ruthless way the older man often opted to while manhandling him. However, he couldn’t hold back a slight pained whine as Barry added in another finger, his body not entirely ready for more yet, even though his mind was. 

Crap, maybe drunk wild sex wasn’t something he should try when the side-effect was dysfunction of his healing.

Savitar pressed his lips against Barry’s in an attempt to distract and relax himself further, ignoring the fingers moving inside of him for the moment. He could take this. He was the God of Speed. He could handle a bit of pain.

Barry grimaced when he heard the pained whimper, feeling like he had pushed Savitar too far. He had drunk less than the younger last night, hence, the memory of manhandling Savitar was more vivid in his mind—the waves of pleasure he gained from taking the lithe body with full intention to inflict pain, all the while indulging in his sadistic side without caring that he had hurt the younger speedster more than usual. Now that their healing isn’t as optimum as it usually was, Barry was concerned as noises of pain kept spilling out Savitar’s lips. He responded eagerly to his lover's kisses, moving the fingers slowly in an attempt to lessen the pain. He considered for a moment—before deciding to break the kiss and pulled his fingers out to coat them with the lotion from the toiletries stand, maybe the added lubrication would make it less uncomfortable. 

"Sorry baby, I know it hurts," he whispered, sliding the fingers back in as gently as he could while pushing his hips forward into Savitar’s, hoping to distract the younger speedster from whatever unpleasant feelings he might be having. It worked, for both of them; they both groaned and he managed to get a third finger in seemingly without hurting him too badly. 

Last night had been more about drunken lust and satisfying desires, this right now was about making love. It wasn't supposed to be dirty or rough. They were just married—things should change for crying out loud! Barry was determined to proof that he was different, different than Savitar’s hateful Barry—the Barry Allen from Savitar’s original Earth. He searched with his fingers for Savitar's prostate, knowing he had found it when the younger’s back arched and Savitar pushed back against his hand a little bit harder. His moan was one of pleasure and pain though, so Barry kissed him reassuringly. 

"Are you sure you are okay with this, baby?" Barry forced himself to ask, even though he desperately wanted to be inside his lover. But Savitar was his top priority now and, so instead he wrapped a hand around Savitar's dick, stroking it meaningfully. "You don't have to do this for me...You could top me…,” he swallowed, squaring his shoulders despite the tingling itch on his back. “I’d manage…" 

Savitar had to wait for his mind to clear a bit before he could piece together a response, Barry’s vibrating hand on his dick was far too distracting, especially combined with the fingers carefully stretching him. “I’m alright,” he managed to blurt out, meeting his lover’s gaze, hoping to convey to the other just how badly he wanted this right now.

Barry’s expression told him that he wasn’t being convincing at all.

“You don’t like being topped,” Savitar sighed, resting his forehead on Barry’s shoulder. “I don’t want to trigger you—,” he wailed and trashed against the wall—Barry has tentatively added light vibration against his prostate. “Want you so much,” he panted, barely able to gather his shattered pieces back. 

He wanted to feel Barry inside of him, wanted to feel that connection with him, craving for it, needed it. They had had a rather rough night, followed by a bloody start to their morning, and Savitar wanted something nice to happen that would make today memorable.

It was the day of their wedding for crying out loud. 

“Tell me,” Barry croaked out, carefully increasing the vibration of his fingers around the throbbing flesh. “How you want to do it. What you want me to do. Tell me, so that I didn’t hurt you.”

Savitar bit his lip to stop the whimper that threatened to spill from his mouth.

Maybe a marriage wasn’t a good idea.

If Barry kept acting so sweet like this, Savitar didn’t know that he could survive. He was weak when Barry got sweet and loving. It was his ultimate weakness—bless the speedforce that Barry usually prefer to be ruthless and rough with him and not sweet and loving.

Otherwise, Savitar would be so dead.

“Just give me a second,” Savitar said, his voice slightly strained, although the pain was lessening, his body flooding with pleasure as Barry’s fingers continually brushed against his prostate while the slender hand continued stroking his dick—light vibrations accompanied each stroke and filled Savitar with pleasure. “I love you,” he murmured again, nuzzling his nose into Barry’s jaw line, placing tiny little kisses there once more. He gasped out suddenly as Barry’s finger’s pressed against his prostate with a little more force than before, the intense vibration had his back arching into a painful curve while his sore body tightened involuntarily around his lover’s fingers. “Damn it, Barry,” he moaned, burying his face in his lover’s neck, “Gotta hurry up, Barr, or I’m gonna come!” 

Even without touching himself, just seeing Savitar writhe under his touch, hearing him asking for it... Barry was positive he was feeling exactly the same amount of pleasure as his lover was right now, if not more. He swallowed hard when Savitar's body clenched around his fingers, and quickly pulled the digits out. "Okay baby, you have to turn around now,” Barry said apologetically, almost wishing they had started this in bed so he didn't have to take Savitar from behind again. 

Savitar didn't seem entirely happy with the positioning, but he obviously wanted it so he obliged to Barry's request. With careful movements Barry helped him to turn around on the slippery shower floor; placing his hands over top of Savitar's shaking hands on the cold wall. 

"Savitar," Barry prompted, releasing one of his hands to put a finger underneath the younger’s chin, urging him to turn his head towards him. 

It wasn't a very good angle, awkward even, but he kissed Savitar anyway, a little bit more demanding than before but still not taking any more than his lover was willing to give. As their tongues danced together, he moved his other hand down to his own dick, giving it a few strokes that made him moan into Savitar's mouth before guiding it to his husband's prepared entrance. Savitar broke away from his lips with another gasp when Barry slowly rubbed the head of his cock over his entrance a few times. All the hot sensations were driving him insane; he didn't think he would be able to control himself much longer. 

"Try to relax, baby," Barry whispered, releasing his own erection and reaching around to grip his lover's dick as he started to push inside carefully. 

Savitar couldn’t repress the low moan that escaped from his mouth as Barry slowly pushed himself inside of him, the elder’s hand moving over Savitar’s dick to distract him from the pain. Savitar would love it if he was able to see his lover’s face this time—Barry was always so calm and controlled, but he just knew that the emotionless mask had dropped now—but they were kind of limited with what they could do in here, so he tried to forget his annoyance, focusing instead on the fact that he could feel Barry’s entire body pressed against his back, almost no space between the two of them. Savitar pushed his hips backwards, intending on having all of Barry inside of him, regardless of how much it hurt him. He’ll get his healing back once his metabolism burnt the remains of the alcohol away, he could handle a little pain now. The pain was significantly less than he had been expecting however, the heat of the shower and the way Barry was pressed against him relaxed his tensed muscles and making him hungry for more. He tangled his fingers with Barry’s as the elder once again brought one of his hands up to cover Savitar’s, a breathy whine sneaking past his lips as Barry finally slid fully inside of him, the elder’s thumb swiping over the head of his dick at the same time. 

“Barry,” Savitar breathed out, his panting breaths seeming really loud, echoing in the small space. Savitar turned his head slightly, searching out Barry’s lips once more as he tried to adjust to the sensation of the hard vibrating dick stretching his sore body. 

Barry quickly answered Savitar's wordless request, leaning closer to kiss him as he set a slow pace. Three years. It had been over three years he took Savitar to his Earth, over three years since they started their twisted narcissistic relationship. Barry was always in control—he was the Flash, the leader of the Rogues, he ruled his cities with iron fist—and Savitar often played the role of dangerously lethal arm candy for him. Despite of what everyone had been thinking when they saw the way he and Savitar interacted, Barry needed Savitar just as much as Savitar needed him. Sure, it seemed that he was only using Savitar as a sexual outlet—with all those times people caught him bending the younger speedster into half, only to leave Savitar used and exhausted afterwards—it was a common agreement of his rogues that the Flash didn’t care about Savitar, that the younger speedster was merely his arm candy and a fucktoy.

But Barry really craved for Savitar’s love, even more than anyone could imagine. 

After all, the only person who wouldn’t betray him was his own self.

“Barry, Barry…Barry…,” Savitar murmured against the bathroom tiles, his hands sliding up and down the wall as Barry gently took hold of his hips and adjusted himself. 

“Relax, honey,” Barry hushed, kissing Savitar’s neck softly. A low hiss slipped past his lips, cursing Savitar, the younger’s entrance so incredibly rigid that he has to fight to make his way in. “Savitar, baby, you’re so . . . tight,” he murmured against the wet shoulder, letting his fingers roamed their way across Savitar’s chest, his breath sounding deep and soft as he inhaled against the time remnant’s hair.

“Barry—” Savitar groaned, voice hoarse as he leant into Barry’s touch, his body trembled violently against the older speedster.

Barry figured that he has the right position now, his hips moving ever so slowly, his hands moving up to hold onto Savitar’s shoulders.

“I need you, Savitar,” Barry murmured, the pleasure filling him up as they moved gently together, “…need you so much—”

Savitar cried out against the white tiles, back arched as Barry thrust into that spot again, tempting moans after moans spilling out from him. He pressed his temple to the tiles, allowing Barry the angle to kiss him. There was no way for them to kiss properly in this kind of position, but they needed the connection. They parted when their neck grew sore from the awkward angle, and Savitar was back whimpering to the wall. The friction gained on Barry, sweeping over his sensitive flesh in slow torturous slide, his lips smothered Savitar’s back with kisses.

“Barry . . . honey,” Savitar breathed sharply, his skin so soft and hot underneath Barry. “Faster . . . faster . . . come on, please... I can take it. I’m not weak…”

Barry sighed and pushed in deeper, increasing his vibrations gradually as he aimed for that one spot he knew will make the younger man screamed his name in all its glory... “I know, baby, I know,” he soothed as Savitar got impatient, and he changed his angle, obliging Savitar’s request and picked up the speed, thrusting in and out the tight heat, hands holding the squirming hips still that it almost left bruises with the force he was using but neither cared about the minor little details.

“Barry, come on—” Savitar was speaking through gritted teeth now, and Barry pushed in again . . . faster…then harder, each time trying to maximize the strength he gave to his younger lover...

When Savitar tilted his head to stare pleadingly at him, Barry leant in for a kiss.

"Savitar... I need you baby. I don't think I can last long...," Barry hummed against Savitar’s lips, his grip on reality was starting to loosen as he moved in and out of his lover's body, speeding up a bit. “Fuck, I don’t want to last long,” he whimpered, pressing his lips desperately to Savitar’s panting ones. 

His surroundings were fading away; he focused only on the warmth of his body pressed against Savitar's, the twitching muscles surrounding his erection. Most of all, he focused on Savitar's lips, into which he was currently trying to pour out all his love, make the younger understand how much he cared about him, despite all of the mistreatment he inflicted on the younger. He cared. He did care. Savitar understood him and always so eager to please him.

He just wasn’t used to express love. Not after the hell he had gone through.

"Savi-tar, I love you so much, I can't even... express how much I can't live without you...," he choked out—his throat tightened as the words left him—squeezing his eyes shut as he felt himself balancing on the edge, stomach muscles tensing as he got closer to his completion. 

It was rare for him to let go this early, but it was rare for him to let his emotions mingled into sex, so he thought that this was properly justified. He moved his hand a little bit faster on Savitar's dick, trying to push the younger towards the edge as well, and squeezed the fingers tangled together with his own, lips searching for Savitar’s own. 

Savitar could feel his lover’s desperation, could feel Barry’s emotions as he kissed him back, rendering him absolutely speechless, and he could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. It was always overwhelming for Savitar when Barry got like this, telling him how much he loved him, how much he needed him, and not just with words either, his actions only proving his point further. Barry never expressed love—he was too hurt to say that magic word—but when he did, the word was genuine. There were no barriers between them, not now—there was no one to take advantage of Barry’s moment of weaknesses—they were alone here, far from their rogues. He squeezed Barry’s fingers back, his moans rising in volume as the speed of the other’s thrusts and the hand moving on his dick increased—Barry’s hips were blurring, fast yet so gentle as he pound into Savitar, brushing the bundle of nerves inside him with strong powerful vibration with each thrust. Barry obviously was getting close to the end, wanting to push Savitar over as well. 

“I know,” Savitar managed to breath out, his breath hitching as the movements of Barry’s hips turned erratic, faltering in their rhythm, vibrating without control, “I love you too, Barr…need you so much,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lover’s fingers that were still tangled with his own. Savitar could feel his release starting to pool in his stomach, the warm tingling spreading throughout his limbs. He couldn’t hold back any longer, and his eyes squeezed shut as he suddenly orgasmed, his release spattering the shower wall and Barry’s hand, tears finally escaping and rolling down his cheeks, unable to hold them back any longer. “Barry!” he mewled, leaning his forehead against the cool wall in front of him, trying to regain his breath. 

Savitar's body spasmed around him, and his hot cum shot into his hand, causing Barry to moan loudly, pressing his lips to the back of Savitar's neck to muffle the sound. When his name fell from his husband's lips, Barry couldn't control himself anymore, and with one last powerful thrust he buried himself deep inside Savitar before releasing his load into his lover. 

"Sa-savitar!" He groaned, clutching at the hand in his own as he rode out his orgasm, his blurring hips slowed to a languid pace as waves of pleasure washed through their joined bodies. 

They stood like that for a few moments, catching their breath, and just holding on to the moment, feel that connection with each other for as long as possible. 

It didn't last long though, Savitar wiggled uncomfortably, so Barry stepped back, wincing as his overly sensitive dick slid out of the younger speedster’s body. "You’re wonderful, babe," he sighed one last time, and gently turned the time remnant around again to kiss him properly—his lips lazily kissing the younger’s jaw, neck and collarbone, leaving his mark everywhere, sweat and cooling water ran down his own forehead to plaster his hair to his skin as he claimed Savitar in a sweet kiss, letting the time remnant took the reign and dominated him. Barry parted his lips willingly, letting Savitar to take charge, allowing himself to be kissed breathless before they slowed down, Barry fiddled with the tap as they kissed languidly, making the water heat up again. 

"I'm gonna wash your hair now, kay?" Barry trailed his lips down Savitar's neck once, and then lifted the hand with Savitar's cum on it to his lips, making sure the younger was watching before licking it up. After, he stepped back to smirk a bit at him while reaching for the shampoo bottle. "I didn't hurt you too much, did I?" 

Savitar could only stare wide-eyed at his lover as he cleaned his hand off with his tongue, and he could feel his face flushing once more. Damn Barry and his super talented tongue. It took him a second to realize that his lover had asked him a question, and he shook his head as he watched Barry squeezed some of the shampoo out onto his palm. 

“No…” he mumbled when Barry stopped to stare at him, the elder fighting to keep his amusement off his face, and not really succeeding at it either. Savitar shook his head again, in an attempt to clear it, still feeling a little bit lost and sluggish after his powerful orgasm. “I feel just fine,” he stated again, and Barry raised one eyebrow, obviously not believing Savitar. “I’m serious! Don’t look at me like that, I’m not weak!” Savitar was dangerously close to stomping his foot, but he thankfully managed to catch himself before he did, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing angrily instead. 

Barry was right not to believe Savitar though, as Savitar was in a considerable amount of pain now, the warm afterglow already starting to wear off, leaving aches and pains in its wake. He didn’t want to tell Barry though, didn’t want to appear weak. Savitar had agreed after all, so he would just going to suck it up until his healing kicked in and healed him properly again.

But it still hurt like a bitch, though.

Savitar wanted to just lie down and sleep right now.

“Weren’t you going to wash my hair?” Savitar asked, attempting to change the subject, carefully shifting a little closer to his lover. 

"Of course, princess," Barry laughed, rubbing the shampoo between his wet palms a few times before beckoning Savitar to move a little bit closer. He was plenty close enough, but Barry wasn't about to admit that. The other just glared at him, unimpressed with being called a princess, so Barry stepped closer; there wasn't that much space in the shower anyways. "Come on, don't act like a child, I was just joking, dear. You’re still my dangerously lethal husband," Barry rolled his eyes, speaking with a slightly condescending tone. 

Before Savitar could get truly mad with him he reached up and gently ran his soapy fingers through the drenched brown hair, massaging Savitar’s scalp with skilled movements. Savitar moaned at the touch and Barry smiled happily at the blissful sound. They rarely did this. Intimate interactions weren’t an option when their rule was still new and green—with enemies still lurking out there looking for their weaknesses. One day, once his rogues have solidified as a prominent power, Barry would make this moments more often. He actually loved spoiling Savitar, loved pleasing the younger speedster, although he often masked it with playful tease and exasperated lecture. The few times he actually had the chance to wash his lover’s hair was enough for him to remember what motions relaxed Savitar, and made the younger speedster melted under his touch. 

Though, the sound of the horrified screams outside the door shattered their peaceful moment, and Barry sighed, only having Savitar in his eyes now. 

"Ignore it," Barry murmured when Savitar scowled at the noise. 

Barry held Savitar in place with one slippery hand, not wanting this moment to end because it was rather obvious that Savitar was about to flash out and get rid of the now increasingly loud screaming. He continued washing Savitar's hair, something he found that he really did love doing. For some reason, doing this made him feel really close to his now husband. Just as he leant closer and let his lips brush against Savitar's, they heard a crash, cold mist seeped through the crack of the bathroom door, frost started to coat the walls and turned their shower ice cold as Killer Frost’s angry voice thundered just outside the door.

“BARTHOLEMEW HENRY ALLEN! HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY RESEARCH!!”

Barry paused and stared at Savitar with slightly wide eyes. Killer Frost did not sound happy.

Then, there was banging right on the fragile door of the bathroom door.

“BARRY ALLEN, YOU COME OUT RIGHT NOW AND EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THE VIDEO OF YOU GETTING DRUNK-MARRIED IN VEGAS IS GOING VIRAL NOW!!!”

Savitar ducked underneath the cold spray of water to rinse his hair, before returning to his previous spot, shivering hands rested over Barry’s chest. He was smiling lazily, fingers circling round the buds of Barry’s nipples before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on Barry’s lips. He patted Barry’s chest when the older speedster winced upon another bang on the door.

“I’m not going to bail you out, Barry.”

Barry let out an insufferable sigh, although the smile was there on his face when he swooped in for another kiss. He broke the kiss when Savitar started whimpering, lips dragging over the shaky ones as he whispered;

“To be honest, I wasn’t even surprised you said that.”


End file.
